CBSxCPS: Mon Péché, Votre Paradis
by OrphanHooligan
Summary: A chapteres fic about Christain Brutal Sniper and Christian Pure Spy. There really isn't a summary... They go through difficulties about their love, which must be kept as a secret. When other is a Priest and other is a Sinner, what else could you do?


Team Fortress 2

Christian Brutal Sniper / Christian Pure Spy

CBS © Kekas Vas Normandy

CPS © mit-332

**_~ Mon Péché, Votre Paradis ~_**

_Chp 1_

* * *

The night was dark and it was raining. The cold streets were empty during this time of night. The streetlights were the only light source in the dark alleys. A man was walking towards the lone, dark horse-drawn carriage. The person was tall and wore fully black clothes; a slouch hat, a collar shirt with weird, blood red symbols on his shoulders. A dark vest, the same symbol on his back. He wore dark, quite skin tight trousers and the cowboy-like boots knocked on the wet ground. He was escorting someone…

The other person was a bit smaller, and his face was hidden under a hood. He had a cape around him, so you couldn't even be sure was he a man or a woman. His clothes didn't show from under the cape. But one thing was sure; a chain came from under the cape, and the taller man was holding the other head. So, he must've been escorting a prisoner of some sort. The smaller man stumbled on his legs slightly, the taller one pulling the chain a bit.

"Keep up", he whispered.

As the pair came to the carriage, the taller one knocked on the door. The prisoner didn't move even a bit when the door opened. There was a man inside, who wore a top hat and a nice, expensive looking suit with a monocle. He was smoking, the smokes he blew to the pair's faces. The taller man looked at the man in the carriage through his dark glasses, frowning when the smokes met his face. He was used to the smell, though.

"Did you bring me what I asked, mister Brutal Sniper?" the top hatted man asked. The Brutal gave a smirk, his sharp teeth intimidating.

"Oi brought ye somethin' even better, mister Director", he said. The Director raised an eyebrow.

Brutal pulled the smaller man's hood down, revealing the person under it. The man was like an Angel; his skin was bright white, and he wore a mask as white as snow. His curly blond hair was seeking to get out from the holes on his mask. His eyes were sky blue, and even his presence felt like as if the Holy Father himself was standing before them. His mouth was covered with a cloth piece, so he couldn't speak. The man in the carriages stepped out, his eyes on the white man. His own eyes widened in surprise, his mouth open a few inches. The smoke almost dropped from his lips.

"The Pure One", he whispered as he brought his hand slowly but surely on the man's cheek, the back of his hand leaning against it. The Pure One leaned his head away slightly, the man's touch feeling very disgusting. And smelled like cigarette.

"I did ask you much, but this… The Pure One himself", the Director said again, taking a hold of Pure's jaw and turning his head from side to side, examining him. Brutal had great instincts, and his ears told him that they were not alone. He looked around a bit, seeing people appear from the dark corners around them, soon surrounding them. There were 4… no, 6. Six men surrounded them from different locations. Brutal turned to look at the Director again.

"We made a deal, Director", he scoffed, Director's eyes darting up at him. The Pure One had his eyes on the Director, and the same time he started whispering. He whispered so silently no one else heard him. He closed his eyes to be able to concentrate.

"Yes, yes, Brutal, you shall have your part of the deal. As soon as I get Father to a certain place where he won't be found before I have what I need…" Director said and snapped his fingers. Two other men stepped out of the carriage from the other side. Brutal turned his eyes on them, his hold on the chain tightening. Director leaned lower to be directly face to face with the Pure One. The Director took the smoke from his lips and blew the cloud on Pure's face. Father frowned when the smell was about to break his concentration, Director giving him a smirk, which wasn't so nice since some of his teeth had either dropped, or damaged in other ways.

"Tell me, Father… How does it feel when God forgets about you?" he asked silently. Pure opened his eyes then.

_"Scintilla etiam exigua in tenebris micat"_, whispered the Pure One. Director noticed the Pure One was speaking by the movement of his lips through the cloth.

"I can't hear you with this cloth on your lips", he said, and lowered it down. That was a mistake.

"_Vade retro, satana!"_ Pure shouted, and then a bright burst of light filled the whole alley.

The Director and his men were all blinded for a few seconds, and his horses neighed nervously, rampaging in the ties of the carriage. The top hatted man dropped on the ground on his bottom, as well as his men started dropping on their knees. They got weak, their powers felt like they were being sucked from their bodies. When Director was able to see again, the Brutal and the Pure stood side by side before him. Brutal pulled out his two, long kukris as he ran towards the nearest Director's minions, piercing his weapons through their chests, and Pure dropped his cape down. The chain dropped from his hands, he was never tied up with them. Under the cape he was holding a large book on one hand as with the other he was holding the cross, which was hanging by his neck on a golden lace. He was calling out words and sentences in Latin, sending off pillars of light towards Director's men. Slowly, they all turned to their true appearance; living dead.

"W-witchcraft!" Director shouted as he pulled up on his feet, taking lean from the carriages. The Pure was sending off beams of light, the living dead turning to ashes when the light touched them. His eyes were glowing bright blue.

"YOU AREN'T EVEN NEAR TO BE GOD'S SERVANT! YOU ARE NOT PURE AT ALL!" the Director shouted, and suddenly a kukri pierced his right side. The Director gave out a deep cry, the horses panicking and finally they ran off with the carriage. Director dropped down on his knees on the ground, the kukri pointing out from his back. The shock might've been the only thing still keeping him alive. Director saw boots under his eyes, and suddenly he was pulled up from the ground by his collar. Brutal was staring into his eyes with his own, bloodthirsty, deep red ones.

"Don't ye ever call him that again", he growled, his sharp teeth like a hungry predator's.

Director didn't answer, he was too shocked and in pain to answer.

"Ye filthy man, ye don't even deserve to-" Brutal continued, taking a grip of the kukri's holder.

"_Brutal_", called out the most holiest voice from behind them. This made Brutal stop. He looked over his shoulder at Father. His eyes didn't reflect hatred, brutality or even anger anymore. They were like a lost puppy's when he looked at the Father.

The Pure frowned slightly. Brutal knew he didn't like death, blood or anything like that. Why else would he be calling out the _safe word_? He sighed and turned to look at the Director again. The Pure turned on his heels, turning his back on the two others. Placing his hands on his ears, he whispered out; "_Requiescat in pace…"_ In a few seconds, it was over. Director was dead, and so were his living dead.

"'_Rest in peace'?_" mumbled the Brutal. The Pure lowered his hands from his ears and turned around, finding the Brutal standing just a few inches from him.

"He would've killed ye. Maybe fed ye to those zombies. And ye say, '_rest in peace'?_" he asked, not believing his ears.

Pure frowned just a bit, sadly, and gave a small sigh.

"I say vhat God tells me to, even if I may not agree- I am a servant, vho brings God's vords to his people", he spoke out softly. The Brutal growled.

"Ye always say that!" he barked bringing his arms up for a few seconds in frustration.

"When will ye start speaking with yer own mind, own words?" he asked, irritated by the Pure's attitude. What could Pure do, or say to defend himself? He was God's ambassador, so he tells people what they want to hear, what God wants them to hear.

"Enfant, no ozer priest vould do vhat I do zith you", he said, meaning the situation they were just in. Brutal gave a dark chuckle.

"Ye are like a Fallen Angel, love, a Fallen Angel but still the most holiest man on Earth, doin' God's dirtiest jobs, taking all the dirt and blood on yer own hands, because God himself can't do it", said Brutal. He chuckled.

"Well… Oi guess someone has to do it."

The Pure looked into his eyes for a moment. He was right; Pure was the Archdeacon, but he wasn't so innocent or even sinless. And someone had to do the things he and Brutal did; take down all the unholy and evil which no one else could.

"Maybe that's why we work so well together; ye are Pure, Oi'm Brutal, we both are servants of God, and ye are not afraid of what is to come…" Brutal said as he passed the Pure, Brutal's own cross around his neck covered in living dead's blood.

"We should head back to church; it's startin' to rain harder", he added taking a soft hold of Pure's hand.

"Let's go, Father."


End file.
